


Long Live The Empress

by andrastes_grace



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrastes_grace/pseuds/andrastes_grace
Summary: It's been a week after the events at the lighthouse and Emily is going to become Empress.  Also, she can't sleep.





	

Emily couldn’t sleep, which was something that had become too common in the last six months.  She thought things would be better, now she was back in Dunwall Tower, her doll, Mrs. Pilsen, by her side again (she’d been informed that she couldn’t throw a feast in celebration of finding her and that a national holiday was a ‘maybe’) but it just seemed to be worse.  Whenever she closed her eyes she saw things she didn’t want to think about.

So she found herself walking, her feet finding the familiar path along the corridor, and stopping outside the door to the Royal Protector’s quarters.  Technically, Corvo Attano was no longer the Royal Protector but Emily had been insistent to her guards – she wasn’t going to be separated from him again.  Emily had the feeling at least half of them still wanted to arrest him, no matter what she said about what really happened the day her mother was – the day everything happened.

“Corvo?” she said, after pushing open the door.  “I can’t sleep.”

“You should be in bed,” he sounded tired, but he answered so quickly that Emily wondered if he’d already been awake when she opened the door.

“I’m going to be Empress tomorrow,” she said, with as much dignity as she could while yawning, “You can’t just order to me bed like a child.”

“I apologise.  You should be in bed, your majesty.”

She made a ‘pfffffffffft’ noise in his direction, and she was sure she heard a chuckle.  “Can I stay here?  Just for a bit?”

Emily thought she heard a sigh, and then there was a click and the light in the room flared to life, the buzz of electricity sounding so loud in the quiet room.  Corvo’s hair was sticking out in every direction and Emily giggled.

“You’re a lot less scary looking with bed hair.”

“I’m not scary.”

“A little bit.” On seeing Corvo’s hurt expression she added, “but in a good way.”  Emily perched herself on the end of his bed, and sat crossed legged, facing him.

“It feels weird to be back here – back in our old rooms.  I keep thinking I’ll wake up and I’ll be back at the Hound Pits or –“ She stopped, not wanting to finish that thought.  “And tomorrow I’m going to be Empress.  Well, later today; I guess.  Do you think I’ll be a good Empress?”

Corvo didn’t answer for several seconds, and Emily wondered if he heard her.  Finally, he replied, “I don’t know,” which was not encouraging.

“I guess that’s not an easy question.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll find out.”  Emily was sitting straight backed, with her hands folded neatly in her lap, something she’d been trained to do from a young age to stop her from lacing and unlacing her fingers in nervousness. “You won’t let anyone use me, right?  Like the others tried to do?”

Corvo shook his head, and Emily smiled, reassured.

“So – Corvo?  The last week you keep looking like you want to tell me something.  Like it’s serious.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m going to be Empress tomorrow.  I could order you to tell me.”

“Then I’d point her majesty towards almond pastries and leave while she’s distracted.”

“Meanie.”

They both laughed, like everything was normal again.  Like the last six months hadn’t happened.

“It’s something you mother wanted you to know – when you were older.”  He paused, considering his words.  “It’s about your father.”

“Mother always said my father didn’t matter.  That I was her daughter and that should be good enough for anyone.  Besides, I have you.  That’s better than ten whole fathers.”

Corvo laughed, “Funny you should say that.”

Emily stared at him, with dark eyes that were so like his own, and she took a moment to process what he had just said.

“You?  You’re my father?”

A nod, and then Corvo found himself tackled by the full force of Emily Kaldwin.

“Corvo!  This is the best news ever!  You’re my father!  I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

She gripped his hand tightly and grinned, like she was still the girl she’d been before that day so long ago now.  “I don’t feel worried anymore.  Well, I do.  But I can do anything – like you did.  Like mother did.”  She hugged him, but when she let go her face was serious.

“Corvo – I mean, _father_ –“ she decided she was going to say that as much as she could, to make up for lost time, “can I ask something else?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be my Royal Protector?  Like you were mother’s?”

“Emily,” his gruff voice was always so gentle when he said her name.  “I can’t.  I failed Jessamine, and you.  I-“

“No, you didn’t fail.  Those men – they cheated.  They had magic.  But you have magic now, too.  So that won’t happen again.  Please, father.”

Corvo stared down at the mark on the back of his hand, and then nodded.

 

 

Emily managed not to fidget during the entire ceremony.  Apparently what she was enduring was the cut down version, taking place nearly entirely within her throne room and lacking any of the pomp and parades that usually went with the coronation of an empress.  Dunwall’s current state, and brief window of time they’d had to prepare, meant that anything more would’ve been impossible.  They’d barely had time to appoint a new High Overseer to lead the ceremony.  Still, what was left of Dunwall’s elite society was present, and everything was broadcast for the city to hear.  When the last, muted, cry of ‘Long Live Empress Emily Kaldwin, first of her name!’ died away, Emily quietly asked High Overseer Khulan, “Is that it?  Am I Empress?”

“Indeed, your majesty,” he replied, with a bow.

“Umm,” she swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry, and stared out at the crowd.  No Boyles or Pendletons were present; and many of the names and faces she’d known growing up in the tower were also absent, or dead.  But the gathered nobles were only the start of the crowd.  The moment she spoke into the microphone she’d be addressing the entire city.    Emily felt Corvo’s hand rest on her shoulder, and with renewed confidence she recited her memorised speech.  There was a great deal about harmony, and forgiveness.  Healing was mentioned at least three times.  When the polite applause of the nobles faded, Emily continued.

“And I would also like to thank personally the people without, um, whom I wouldn’t be here, uh, without.  I mean, the people who helped me after my mother – I mean, Empress Jessamine – was – after she died.”  She was way off script and rambling and there was a part of her brain screaming at her to shut up, but she pressed on.  “Umm… Anton Sokolov, Piero Joplin, Callista Curnow, Samuel Beechworth, and –“ she didn’t dare turn her head, “and, m-my father, Corvo Attano.”

She heard the whispers racing around the throne room, far more energetic than the applause she’d received a few moments before, but her only concern was Corvo’s voice in her ear.

“You realise what you just said?”

“I’m aware,” she muttered back.  She saw Khulan out of the corner of her eye.  He looked as though he was trying to resist burying his head in his hands.  “They made me Empress, the whole city heard it.  They can’t take that back.  Can they?”

“You’ve not made things easy for yourself,” was her father’s only response.

“Good.  I’m not scared.”

Corvo’s hand rested on her shoulder again, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“That’s my girl.”


End file.
